Page 37 of A Song in the Dark
chapter Thirteen
Chaisley walked through the foyer of her grandmother’s large manor house and into the dining room. The laughter and conversations around the table had turned into joyous times for most everyone at the manor.
A sweet blessing in the midst of such adversity.
Now, if only they could reach Klaus.
The father’s bitterness and despair had lessened a fraction seeing his family cared for, fed, and happy. But he always left the room when anyone dared to be positive in the midst of their circumstances. He just couldn’t see any hope.
So she, Mel, and her grandmother had started praying for the man three times a day. Just him. For several minutes, they would meet in private and pray for God to reach his heart, soften it, and show him that there was still life. Still joy.
Listening to all the voices now, Chaisley navigated her way to her seat at the table so she could be surrounded by the joyous chatter.
Grandmother insisted that every guest take great care to leave the furniture where it was, to pick up after themselves, and to keep an eye out for anything dropped on the floor that could pose a hazard to any of the blind people inhabiting the house.
For the most part, it worked wonders. But whenever there were small children about, there was a chance for a stray toy or shoe here and there.
Caution was her new best friend as she roamed the house. More often than not now, she ended up carrying her foldable cane.
Grandmother kept her up-to-date on all the guests. They prayed for each one daily in the early morning hours before anyone else awoke.
As she left the dining room and made her way to the sunroom, her heart cinched.
Grabbing onto the joy of these moments kept them going, yes.
But the other conversations and the reality of what she’d experienced and heard made the time difficult.
The sorrow and fear she heard in their guests’ voices were forever engraved on her heart.
There was no escaping or covering the horrors for even the children any longer. The truth was better for all of them to be prepared.
The rumblings that Hitler wanted Czechoslovakia couldn’t be ignored.
Every day she prayed for leaders around the world to stop the insanity.
This evening, she’d play another concert at the Amsterdam Royal Concert-Gebouw to another sold-out crowd. Oh, how she longed to share what she knew in front of the entire crowd. But that would surely draw unwanted attention to her, which would risk the good they were doing.
That couldn’t happen. They were just getting started—the groundwork had barely been laid for their vast network to continue helping people escape.
“A penny for your thoughts.” Rick’s low timbre greeted her from the direction of the door in the adjoining parlor.
She smiled toward him, her heart doing a tiny leap. “Would you like to join me? I’m reminiscing over our time here.”
Soft footfalls made their way closer. “It’s been harder than you hoped, hasn’t it?” The cushion beside her sank.
How did he know?
“By the furrow in your brow, I’m guessing that my words are correct?” The smile in his tone made her feel warm. Safe. Protected. Something Rick always managed to do.
“Exactly. I’m not as good at hiding my feelings as I thought I was.” She drew in a breath.
“I’ve come to know you pretty well, Chaisley. Your facade is impeccable, but you forget what I’ve been trained to do. I’m also a bit partial to studying my favorite subject.”
Warmth bloomed in her face. She shifted on the settee so her body faced him. “I just realized I don’t know what you look like, Mr. Zimmerman.”
He chuckled. “Oh, we’re back to formality now?”
“Only because you have been studying me and know what I look like—late at night, early in the morning, even all dressed up for a concert—but I only have what I picture in my mind from what I hear and smell and ... touch.” She dipped her chin and swallowed. “Would you mind if I study your face?”
His breaths quickened. “I don’t mind. But how—?”
“With my hands.” She lifted them. “You’ll have to scoot closer though. My arms aren’t that long.”
The cushion shifted and she felt his weight move until their legs touched. The tingles that shot up her spine spread throughout her limbs.
He put a hand on each of her wrists and pulled her hands to his face.
Her palms conformed to the planes of his face, and she held it for a long time. Then, with slow movements, she moved her right hand over the left side of his face.
Thick hair, the ridges of his brow, a straight nose, and the rugged edges of his jawline all took shape in her mind.
“Sorry.” He whispered. “I need to shave.”
Heat worked its way up her neck. “I don’t mind.
” She moved her left hand the same way she’d moved her right and then did another pass with both hands at the same time.
She imagined her hands were like those of a sculptor as he worked with clay.
She could see every bit of his face and it was even better than she imagined. “What color are your eyes?”
“Brown.” His hands were on her wrists again as she held his face.
“And your hair?”
“Blond. Although it has been darkening over time.” His voice was so soft, but she felt his breath on her face. “It probably looks a little bit like dirt now.”
She laughed. “You are a very handsome man, Rick. Even with hair the color of dirt.” She dreaded removing her hands, but it was only proper. As she pulled them away, his hands snatched them back and held on.
“Not really. Especially in comparison to you.” His breaths were quick, like staccato notes played on a drum. “You are truly the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Inside and out.”
She held her breath. They were so close she could feel the space between them diminishing with each second.
When his breath touched her lips, she anticipated his kiss.
She’d never been kissed by a man before.
Not in a romantic way or on the lips. “Rick,” she whispered and put her right hand back on his cheek.
They were only an inch or so apart. “You’ve come to mean a great deal to me.
” She should kick herself for spilling her heart so easily, but she trusted this man. With her whole heart.
“I care about you more than you know, Chaisley.”
Her heart beat so fast it could outrun her fingers on the piano.
The squeaky turn of the doorknob caused them both to jerk away.
“You won’t believe the request that just came in from Queen Wilhelmina for you to play this evening!”
Melanie’s voice didn’t indicate that she’d seen anything.
Her quick steps approached the settee. “I know you won’t have any problem working them into the concert, but she’s apparently a very big fan of yours.
” Papers shuffled. Her footsteps stopped.
“Oh. Is everything all right? What did I interrupt?”
Outside Berlin, Germany
The cool night breeze wafted through the cracked windows of the Rolls-Royce, soothing his flushed skin and unsettled heart.
He was an idiot. No doubt about it. A complete dolt.
How could he have been so stupid? All it took was the brush of Chaisley’s fingers against his skin and he lost all composure.
Nothing had prepared him for the feel of her “seeing” him for the first time. Her touch had been gentle but sure. It had taken every ounce of restraint within him to not touch her face in the same way. And the fact that she returned any sort of feeling for him was almost too much to comprehend.
But what could they do about these feelings?
The whole world teetered on the edge of war.
They were transporting children with disabilities out of Germany almost every week.
And he was still under the orders of Section D which put him in danger every step of the way. Which could put her in more danger.
Any kind of relationship other than friendship should be the furthest thing from either of their minds. But after months together, they needed one another.
He let out a long breath. He needed to focus. Tonight’s mission was tricky, and he would need all his wits about him.
His superior had contacted him yesterday after weeks of silence. A couple other officers had intercepted intelligence regarding a flurry of activity at different German railway depots. He, and any other operatives close by, were to discover and report on what was happening.
And to sabotage the event, if they deemed it necessary.
Twenty miles east of Berlin, his first mark came into view.
A lone depot nestled in a large copse of trees.
Rick slowed his vehicle. No light shone out of the building and, from what he could see, there were no vehicles near it.
But that didn’t mean much. He spotted a small open patch on the side of the road and pulled over.
He grabbed his notebook and the chart of scheduled trains.
This was a ghost stop for German soldiers to switch out while riding with supplies.
The trains here veered south into Czechoslovakia, with several more ghost stops along the way before reaching Dresden, the last stop before the Czech border.
He looked at the map—
Wait. Was that another line going east? Grabbing his torch, he clicked it on, covering it so only a bit of light shone on the map, and dragged his finger along the line, following it across the border into Poland.
Now why would Hitler want supply trains rolling into Poland? The Führer had made his desire for the Sudetenland clear, threatening the world with war if the part of Czechoslovakia was not given to Germany.
But Poland?